


Protector of the Young

by Noodle_Oodles



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Everyone Is Gay, Fix-It, Gay Male Character, Guilt, LiveJournal Prompt, M/M, Minor Violence, Past Violence, Prompt Fic, Thorin Is an Idiot, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noodle_Oodles/pseuds/Noodle_Oodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a prompt fill for this livejournal post --> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3651.html?page=4<br/>hope you enjoy, comment if you want. all credit for the concept goes to the prompt author!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protector of the Young

So before I start I would like to point out this is just an exercise between stories. I'm still working on frostbite and another hobbit au I haven’t uploaded yet. This is a fill for this prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3651.html?page=4 I hope you enjoy! I'm not splitting this into multiple chapters, I’m just going to make it one long one-shot. Without further ado, here is my fill for “Protector of the Young”

 

Thorin Oakenshield groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. He became aware of a dark shape moving across his blurred vision, poking and prodding at his otherwise numb body. When the thing's hands reached a sensitive cut on his side he growled in pain as his vision sharpened and he quickly sat up. An immense pain settled in his ribs as hands urged him to lay back down. Now able to see better, he found that the form was in fact an elf maiden.  
Noticing his dark glare, the elf applied slightly more pressure than was necessary to the wound she was attending, causing him to hiss in pain. Once he had fixed his glare elsewhere she spoke.

“Do you remember who you are, Dwarf?” she asked in a passive-aggressive manner.

If they weren't throbbing in his skull at the time, Thorin would have rolled his eyes. Instead he answered with a raspy “Yes.”

In seconds he was offered water and somewhat reluctantly accepted it. After clearing his throat he spoke again.

“Where are my kin? Who survived the battle?” his mind drifted to his sister, sons, and the company.

“Peace King, your kin are being tended to in the tent across from us.”

Hearing this he tried once more to rise from his makeshift bed and this time had more success. Stretching his slowly waking limbs, he boldly attempted to stand against the elf's warnings. Taking an experimental step, his arm shot out to balance himself on the edge of the bed. Just as he made to walk again another, male elf entered the tent.

“Glaethel, I dass carnen? Edain Boe nestad.” The she-elf nodded and made to leave, turning to Thorin and fixing a collected but stern gaze on him.

“Try to rest, Thorin son of Thrain. You need it just as much as your companions.” and with that she was gone to another tent to heal the wounded.

Once the flaps of the tent had settled, Thorin returned to the task of walking once more. Easing his hand off the side of the bed, he slowly stepped toward the exit. When at last he reached it he sighed, resting his head against the tent's wooden support. With one last groan he exited the tent and weaved through the hastily moving elves, making a beeline for the tent across from his.

Opening the flap, he was greeted by the sight of an unconscious Bilbo Baggins, and on the cot across from him his nephews Fili and Kili. Before his mind could formulate the question it had, the last person Thorin had wanted to encounter walked over to tend to the Hobbit.

“Thorin.”

“Thranduil.” the name rolls off his tongue with a bitter taste. “Why have you brought him here? He is not welcome.”

The expression he received disturbingly reminded him of the look he had bared witness to back in Mirkwood, one of complete and utter loathing.

“Because unlike you Dwarf king, I know what it means to have honor and to repay my debts.” he snapped before returning to checking the halflings bandages.

Feeling anger boiling in his gut he growled back, “and what, pray tell, does that mean?”

“He saved my son's life on that battlefield, and as such I’ve taken it upon my self to tend to him and your company as he seemed quite attached to them. You too owe him quite a lot as well.” Seeing the Dwarf's confused expression he sighed and elaborated. 

“When we found him we were quite surprised as you can imagine, to also find your nephews there as well. The two dwarfs were all but unconscious at the time, though the younger one was still slightly awake to the world. The “halfling” as you call him, had encased the two in his arms and protected them from a multitude of arrows which unfortunately found their way into his back instead. These arrows were also poisoned and while the wounds can be closed, it has been a battle in itself to save a creature from a race we know so little about. We have done what we can, but we of the east lack needed knowledge of hobbits to properly treat him.”

When he finished Thorin simply found himself staring wide-eyed at the hobbit before him, taking in the new onslaught of information. Before the imminent wave of guilt could take him over, Bilbo shifted and began mumbling in his sleep. Thranduil quickly turned to Thorin and hastily ordered,

“Hold him down! Quickly now before he hurts himself!” slightly taken aback at the command, Thorin obliges and moves to hold down the hobbits limbs as he begins to writhe and flail in a sort of fit. This spasm lasts for at least three minutes before they begin to die down and the Hobbit is once again muttering, though more clearly now.

“Th-Thorin....Have to....Fili, k-Kili.......M-my fault, all my f-fault....sorry...sorry...”

With this he drifted back into a restless sleep. Releasing his arms and legs Thorin turned to Thranduil looking for some explanation, but found the elven king deep in thought.

“There increasing in consistency... Where is that wizard when we need him...” he trailed off, moving to briefly inspect Fili and Kili before leaving to retrieve more salves. Leaving Thorin alone with his thoughts. Turning back to the halfling he inspected his pained face, and the blue and purple bruises coiling on his chest and stomach. He felt something burning deep in his stomach at the sight of this helpless creature. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, but as the flame reached his face he realized what it was. 

Shame.

As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he felt ashamed that he had dragged the hobbit through hell and kicked him when he was down. He was ashamed that he fell to the same sickness of his grandfather that he had sworn he wouldn't. He was ashamed that he had endangered the lives of his family so willingly. Most of all, he was ashamed that he had weighed a stone, a mere rock, more important than life itself. But Thorin's mind was stubborn as his exterior, and he knew not how to repent for his crimes to his people. Instead he pulled over a chair, and sat between his nephews and Bilbo, vowing to ensure both lived to see their homes.

\------------

 

“Has he eaten at all recently? I swear to Mahal if he starves himself Dis will kill us.” Balin observed, cringing at the thought of the fierce Dwarrowdam and her infamous temper.  
“He won’t even take tea! If Gandalf doesn’t get here soon there won’t be much left for him to save.” Oin grumbled, discouraged by his unwilling patient.  
“Not that I think we should let Thorin anywhere near the wrath of an angry wizard.” Bofur added, causing everyone in the tent to shudder.  
“I’ll try talking to ‘im, if anyone he hopefully still listens t’ me” Dwalin grunted, standing and leaving, the others turning back to there makeshift card game.  
Walking down the line of tents, Dwalin passed many injured and tired eyed humans, some with a child or loved one keeping them company. He prayed the repairs to Dale would not take too long, the added assistance of the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains would hopefully speed up the process. Finally arriving at the tent, he ducked under the partially open flap and found his friend in the same sitting position he had been in the previous day, and day before that. Sighing, he pulled a stool over and sat adjacent to him. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and spoke;  
“ Y’know, if the Halfling was awake he’d probably berate you for not eatin’ or sleepin’.” He ventured.  
Thorin diverted his gaze from Bilbo’s sleeping form to Dwalin, and then immediately back to his burglar.  
“If he was awake he’d be as far away from me as possible.” He said, almost monotone.  
“Thorin, we’ve travelled with him for more than a year now, an’ I know for a fact that he is too kind an’ compassionate to do that. You sittin’ here mournin’ someone who isn’t dead yet won’t help anyone. We all want him and the boys to be okay, but we need you to be a leader now more than ever.”  
“Have I not shown how incapable I am of that yet?! How can I claim the title of king when I couldn’t see past my own greed?” He snapped.  
“We’re not askin’ you t’ go coronate yerself now, but someone has t’ speak with the bowman and treeshagger.” He replied, trying to keep an even voice, “The humans are worried, Thorin. The Dwarrow who is supposed to be overseeing repairs hasn’t shown his face once.”  
Although he struggled to admit it, Dwalin was right. The elven king would be demanding to meet and discuss his gems, and Bard would want to discuss the money needed to get more supplies. With winter fast approaching, Erebor had to be in working order and soon.  
“Will they be safe here?” asked finally.  
“We’ll guard them ourselves.” Dwalin reassured.  
Thorin sighed with defeat and finally stood. “I will meet with the Elvenking and human and discuss our plans.” He resigned and turned. Walking out, he gave Bilbo and his nephews one last glance before exiting. Dwalin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and left to tell the others of their new guard duty.  
Beneath his thick woolen blanket, Bilbo shifted, lost in a dream  
\--------------- Bilbo groaned as he struggled to open his eyes, wincing as he was subjected to a bright white light. When his vision cleared, he found himself on a grassy hill beneath an oak tree. Sitting up, he whipped his head around, searching for signs of life. He jumped as he spotted a tall, almost elf like woman with auburn hair that reached her waist, standing by the tree he leaned against. Sputtering, he stumbled to his feet to confront her, earning him a light, musical giggle from her.  
“Wh-who are you!? Where am I? Did I die?” He hastily asked, confused beyond belief.  
The woman smiled before replying, “You are safe, child. Rest assured you have not died yet.”  
Her voice was that of a harp, sweeter than Beorn’s honey, and softer than elven silk. Against his will to remain bothered, he found himself soothed by her words.  
“You stand in the realm that bridges life and death. It is your decision, which way you will go from here. Do you wish to pass and see the loved ones who have also left from the world of the living, or awaken and rejoin those who still breathe?”  
Bilbo frowned, “What happened at the battle? Are Fili and Kili alright?”  
“The sons of Durin are alive and recovering, though the two you speak of shall slumber for some time. Would you like to glance into the world of the living and see for yourself?”  
Bilbo nodded, “Please.”  
Turning, the woman held her palm facing down, and a puddle appeared. Gazing into the rippling water, Bilbo watched as an image began to appear….  
\-------- Thorin sat at a round table in thranduil’s significantly large tent, the Elven king across from him and Bard next to him.  
“We are relieved to see you still breathing, king Thorin. I imagine negotiating with your relative Thain would prove to be quite difficult.” The elf said.  
Thorin gritted his teeth, and nodded. He only had to stay to agree to help fix Dale in exchange for assistance with Erebor, and that would be all he agreed to.  
“I would like to keep this brief, in exchange for your assistance with recovering our kingdom, Bowman, the dwarves of the Blue Mountains have agreed to help repair Dale for your people.” Thorin replied.  
Bard nodded, and Thranduil added, “And in exchange for our food and supplies?”  
“….You shall be granted the Gems of Pure Starlight.” He reluctantly answered.  
“That seems fine to me.” Bard offered, weary of the glare the other two had fixed on each other.  
“Indeed, I expect they will be granted within a week.” Thranduil said coldly. Thorin had to bite his cheek to suppress a growl.  
Before anything more could be said, an elf came rushing to the tent, kneeling in front of his king he awaited an order.  
“Speak, what has happened?” The Elven king commanded, the elf nodded and spoke.  
“My king, Mithrandir has arrived and wishes to see the Hobbit”  
Thranduil stood fast, the other two leaders following suit.  
“Tharkûn?” Thorin asked.  
“Could someone kindly speak in a manner which I can understand them?” Bard asked.  
The servant elf leaned over and translated, “Gandalf the Wizard has returned.”  
That was all he needed to send him after the other two leaders, who stood ready to escort the approaching horse and rider. The man jumped down from his steed and an elf immediately took hold of its reigns.  
“Where is he? Where is my Hobbit?” the wizard demanded in a powerful, but hasty voice. He looked bedraggled since Thorin had last seen him, covered head to toe in…soot?  
Thranduil stepped forward and ushered the wizard to follow him. “He is last in the third row.”  
Arriving at the tent with the group in tow, Gandalf all but tore the flap open and approached the sleeping hobbit. He gave him a look down before nodding to himself and starting an ancient chant. Watching this, a part of Thorin wondered what exactly that did to help, but then he was reminded of the last time he used it on the Dwarf, and recalled a rush of relief to his pain. He hoped this might awaken the steadily slumbering burglar. His chant coming to an end, Gandalf rose with an expression that worried Thorin. Gripping his staff tightly, Gandalf turned to address the group.  
“I can heal his physical injuries, but I cannot heal his heart. Whether or not Bilbo Baggins will wake is entirely up to his resolve and desire to return to us.” He concluded with a deep frown.  
At this Thorin scowled. “You cannot pull him back?” his tone came out more demanding than he had intended. He flinched slightly when Gandalf fixed a glare on him.  
“No, I cannot force someone who is unwilling to follow.”  
Thranduil gave them a nod, “If you have this under control I will take my leave. Come bowman, we’ve plans to discuss.” He exited, his rope flapping and the human followed loyally with a quick glance back to Bilbo.  
Thorin felt his throat constrict as the wizard began to tend to the hobbit’s wounds. He knew now more than ever he could never bring himself to accept the title of King, or even prince. He….he would have to let Dain rule. Erebor and its allies would be safer with someone else on the throne. He hated to admit defeat or give up on the hobbit, but Bilbo had only faced pain and hardships. Why would he want to return to a world that also held Thorin?  
\---------- Bilbo sighed as the vision disappeared, feeling guilty for driving Thorin to the edge. This guilt was quickly replaced with anger, however, which he directed to the only other person there to listen.  
“Look at him! He seems so unhealthy! Has he even been eating? He can’t let Dain rule, that Dwarrow has even less common sense than Thorin!” he ranted. Sighing, he turned to the oddly amused woman. “He’s about to make a right mess of things, isn’t he?”  
“Indeed.” She replied, “Tell me, child of the earth, what does this dwarf mean to you?”  
Bilbo had to stop and think about this for a moment. “He…He’s very important to me. I have been all over middle earth with him, and I have seen how…brave, and compassionate, and…kind he is. He can be quite an idiot sometimes, but I don’t blame him for what happened… I think I might even…” He trailed off, losing confidence in admitting just what he felt for Thorin. The woman, it seemed, understood perfectly. She nodded and held her hand out.  
“So? Have you decided which way you’ll be going?”  
Bilbo only slightly hesitated before looking up determinedly. “Yes.”  
\-------- Thorin sat by Bilbo’s bed, his hands wrapped around the smaller ones. Yet another day had gone by without any sign of awakening from his burglar. He felt his eyes and throat burn with an emotion he hadn’t felt since the day he had lost everything. An unbidden tear rolled down the kings face to land on the dirtied sheets beneath him.  
“…I would give anything to see you safe, Bilbo. I would give away all the gold in Erebor just to see you safe in your hole with your books, and your armchair, and your garden…” His voice cracked as he remembered these things being spoken of by the bright-eyed Hobbit.  
“I am sorry for all I have done to you, the cruel words I spoke, and my actions at the gate… Just… Please. Please be strong… I have no right to ask anything of you, but I feel I must still try…” he trailed off. Gazing upon the stoic expression the halfing still wore, he felt his heart drop deeper into his gut. Rising, he made to retrieve the salve for Bilbo’s wounds but was stopped by…..a firm grip on his hand.  
His head whipped around as he watched to his astonishment as Bilbo’s face contorted, and his hand held firmly to Thorin’s. Opening his eyes seemed to be a feat of strength, but he accomplished it none the less.  
“Bilbo?” the king spoke in a hasty voice. The hobbit turned his tired gaze to him and…smiled.  
“Th-Thorin-“ he tried but found himself in a coughing fit, Thorin quickly offered him a nearby flask and the hobbit took a generous sip before trying again.  
“Thorin, stop being…..an idiot…” He finished between wheezing breaths. Thorin gave a surprised look before it morphed into deep laughter. Bilbo smiled back at him as he took back the flask.  
“So, did you mean it? You’d give anything for me?” Bilbo had meant it in a joking manner, but Thorin’s serious expression immediately made him regret it.  
“I did, you deserve nothing less and I have come to learn how valuable you are to me.”  
Bilbo felt his eyes widen and his face heat up, unsure of how to answer he let out an, “oh…”  
Before he could say anything more, (though he wasn’t sure what he would have said anyway), Thorin hastily continued.  
“Of course, I wouldn’t hold anything against you if my affection was unwanted! I haven’t done much to warrant such feelings.” With this he bowed his head low, both in courtesy and shame.  
Bilbo shook his head, taking Thorin’s head in each of his hands and lifting it to meet his gaze.  
“And yet…. And yet I share that feeling anyway. Although I think it may be the Took in me that fell for you…” he trailed off in thought, “Then again I don’t think my inner Baggins is complaining either.”  
Thorin chuckled as he rambled. This was what he had been missing, the Bilbo who would go on for ages about his family, and the proper season to plant tulips, and the best ingredients for a pie. Not the war-hardened, miserable, weary hobbit he had seen on the wall.  
“Bilbo.”  
Bilbo stopped abruptly as suddenly Thorin’s lips found his. Chapped ones met soft, plush lips and the hobbit’s eyes slipped closed.  
When they broke apart, they looked at each other, Bilbo with amazement, and Thorin with deep affection.  
“I love you.” The dwarf king said before planting another kiss on his lips.  
“and I you.” Bilbo answered happily.  
\--------- There was of course, still much to do. Erebor was coming along well, and thanks to the elves they had the means to repair Dale. Dis along with many other dwarrow would soon arrive and need to be attended to, and a formal coronation needed to happen for Thorin to get anything done. Yet, as the dwarf king sat beside his one, who held his hand and stroked his arm soothingly, the future seemed a little more promising.


End file.
